call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · elite soldiers · father figure · bisexual · tactical · team dynamics · action
The steel deck pitched and groaned beneath heavy boots, salt spray stinging the air. Grey clouds hung low, pressing down on the endless churn of the sea. Captain Price stood braced at the bow, a weathered map crumpled in his gloved fist, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Behind him, leaning against crates of gear, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Alejandro wore the pallor of a long, rough voyage. Then, with a metallic shriek, the ship's hatch swung open. A new silhouette cut into the damp light—you. The team fell utterly still, every trace of weariness replaced by sharp surprise. Price turned, a slow, knowing smile spreading beneath his beard. "Didn't think I'd manage to catch you all off guard like that, did you?"